Green Gazed Hallucination
by ShellGrad
Summary: Short One-shot. Jane gets some late-night visitors.


**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own the Mentalist or Patrick Jane.**

**Something that popped in my head while reading Protection by Brown Eyes Parker and watching Thor.**

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><p>He heard someone whistling. It was a happy tune, something that certainly didn't match his mood. Jane looked up from the amber liquid in his glass. He looked to his right to see a middle aged man sitting beside him, drumming his fingers on the countertop. The man pretended not to notice Jane for quite some time before finally looking down at him and smirking before resuming whistling his happy tune. Curiosity won over amusement and impatience as Jane finally questioned his companion. "Who are you?"<p>

The man sighed. "I would expect you would not have to ask but I suppose that drink there has weakened those powers you pride yourself on."

"He's right, Son." Jane whipped his head around to the other side of him to see his father sitting with a drink in his hand.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Patrick, you need to put the drink down." He studied the sober expression on the unknown middle-aged man's face. That frown and crease between his brows looked uncannily familiar. "Trust me on this one," he said as he placed his hand on Jane's forearm.

Jane looked into the old man's emerald gaze, soft despite showing signs of years of hardship. Again looking so familiar Jane could almost taste the name on the tip of his tongue. And then it hit him. Understanding filled his eyes though words left him.

The man sighed and ran a hand through his black, short curls. "I didn't appreciate her the way I should have, Patrick." He chuckled as Jane solemnly nodded. "Don't do that. You know very well I hurt my little girl, Patrick."

"The fire in your eyes betrays you, Son."

"But you're hurting her too, Patrick. You may not have laid a hand on her, but you're hurting her just the same, just as I did." He sighed and shook his head. "She raised her brothers when I couldn't. She defended my honor around town when I didn't deserve it. She does that with you too, you know," he added with a sidelong glance and a smirk. "Don't think I haven't seen that my daughter's taken a shining to you."

Jane smiled his charming smile. "I wouldn't dream of it, Mr. Lisbon. I know very well how your daughter feels about me."

"Bullshit."

Jane heard his father laugh from his left. "No, he knows, John. He knows. He's just been avoiding knowing. With knowledge comes power. Patrick here has always been afraid of using that power against people he considers to be good."

"I am not the only one who considers Teresa Lisbon to be a good person," he said as he shook his head and once again stared at the amber liquid in the glass.

"Don't do it, Son," Mr. Lisbon said, once again placing a hand on his forearm. "I drowned myself in the glass, Boy. Don't do what I did. Don't _lose_ her like I did."

"She doesn't resent you, you know," Jane stared into the man's emerald gaze. "She's too good of a person for that." He smiled, looking down to avoid the tearful, ashamed gaze. "Mr. Lisbon, forgive me. I know you're a hallucination – which is why I've yet to touch the drink again, this being bad enough as it is – but our dear Lisbon would want me to ask you something if I ever did tell her of this. Are you in Heaven?"

The dark-haired man shook his head sadly and sighed as he placed a hand on Jane's shoulder. "Ah, Patrick, alcohol induced hallucinations do not come from God but the Devil himself." Jane ignored the tear that escaped. "Stop now, Patrick, and you can join her when she goes to Heaven along with my wife, your mother, and your late wife and child."

"Stop," Jane desperately whispered.

"If someone had told me back then, I wouldn't have been so eager if I'd known I'd never be able to see my wife in the afterlife."

Jane lost track of how long he quietly sobbed. When he finally looked up and did not see either man on his side, he figured he was sober enough. He reached for the phone and dialed an all too familiar number. "Teresa, I need to talk to you. Will you please come?"


End file.
